One more comment about the potential leadership contest among Senate Democrats, that I discussed in this post. Glenn Thrush, describing in Politico a possible race between Dick Durbin and Chuck Schumer, quotes Jennifer Duffy of Cook Political Report as saying that "people really like Durbin", in contrast to the less affable Schumer.
But does that make Durbin more electable?
I'm reminded of the campaign for Democratic leader that followed then-Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield's retirement from the Senate in 1976. The candidates were Robert Byrd and Hubert Humphrey. It was said that Humphrey's candidacy collapsed when fellow senators realized that if they voted for Humphrey, and Byrd won, Byrd would retaliate against them, but if the situation were reversed, Humphrey would not retaliate. Byrd won, although it was a somewhat moot point, in that Humphrey died a year later.
According to that point of view, Humphrey was too nice a guy. Would the same attribute weaken Durbin against Schumer?
Showing posts with label Humphrey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humphrey. Show all posts
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Funny Fly-Over State
Many people on the coasts tend to think of my native state of Minnesota as just another fly-over state. Dull farmers stuck, not only in the middle of nowhere, but in the middle of cold nowhere.
Having lived in the East for more than 20 years, I've heard that message quite often. Of course, I know about its vibrant arts scene, high-quality educational institutions, natural beauty and Minnesota Nice people. My career has led me elsewhere, but my heart and soul have never left South Minneapolis.
Every time that supposedly-dull state makes an odd political move (and they have frequently done so), outsiders are caught off guard. Now, Al Franken is about to complete his transition from silly late-night comedy, to the often sillier, but rarely deliberately humorous, U.S. Senate. On Independence Day, David Carr put that event in historical perspective in The New York Times. I will add some further notes:
During the 1930s, Minnesota voters ceded near-complete control of state government to the socialist Farmer-Labor Party, which I described here.
They reversed that trend when they elected a 31-year-old Republican, Harold Stassen, as governor in 1938. Stassen was a major candidate for his party's presidential nomination in 1948. But, having lost that bid, he went on to declare presidential candidacies so often, that he became a national laughing-stock.
After the Democratic and Farmer-Labor parties merged in 1944, Hubert Humphrey emerged as the leading figure in the combined DFL. By the time of his death in 1978, Humphrey had come to be seen by many as a major statesman (although post-mortem revelations of just how beholden he was to international agribusiness interests somewhat tainted his reputation).
But, especially early on in his Senate career, Humphrey was widely perceived as somewhat of a buffoon. He needed to be told that his speeches did not need to be eternal to be immortal. Also, he was derided as someone who had more solutions than there were problems.
After a few years, Humphrey was joined in the Senate by a DFL colleague, Eugene McCarthy, a rather odd politician. He had briefly worked as a college professor, and was obviously more interested in big ideas, than in the tedium that constitutes so much of political work. McCarthy was so unable to concentrate on the things that bored him, that his opponent when he ran for reelection in 1964 unsuccessfully attempted to skewer him with the slogan "Minnesota needs a full-time senator!"
After McCarthy lost the Democratic president nomination to Humphrey in August of 1968, he abandoned the fall campaign, to instead briefly become a sports journalist, covering the World Series for Life magazine.
Carr describes some of the more eccentric characters in subsequent Minnesota politics. Although he omits the Republican gubernatorial candidate who had to drop out of the race in October, after he was accused of acting improperly toward underage girls among his daughter's friends.
In light of all that history, it's strange that some people are still surprised by an event such as Franken's election. It's a fun state! Some time when you're flying over, why don't you stop in for a while?
Having lived in the East for more than 20 years, I've heard that message quite often. Of course, I know about its vibrant arts scene, high-quality educational institutions, natural beauty and Minnesota Nice people. My career has led me elsewhere, but my heart and soul have never left South Minneapolis.
Every time that supposedly-dull state makes an odd political move (and they have frequently done so), outsiders are caught off guard. Now, Al Franken is about to complete his transition from silly late-night comedy, to the often sillier, but rarely deliberately humorous, U.S. Senate. On Independence Day, David Carr put that event in historical perspective in The New York Times. I will add some further notes:
During the 1930s, Minnesota voters ceded near-complete control of state government to the socialist Farmer-Labor Party, which I described here.
They reversed that trend when they elected a 31-year-old Republican, Harold Stassen, as governor in 1938. Stassen was a major candidate for his party's presidential nomination in 1948. But, having lost that bid, he went on to declare presidential candidacies so often, that he became a national laughing-stock.
After the Democratic and Farmer-Labor parties merged in 1944, Hubert Humphrey emerged as the leading figure in the combined DFL. By the time of his death in 1978, Humphrey had come to be seen by many as a major statesman (although post-mortem revelations of just how beholden he was to international agribusiness interests somewhat tainted his reputation).
But, especially early on in his Senate career, Humphrey was widely perceived as somewhat of a buffoon. He needed to be told that his speeches did not need to be eternal to be immortal. Also, he was derided as someone who had more solutions than there were problems.
After a few years, Humphrey was joined in the Senate by a DFL colleague, Eugene McCarthy, a rather odd politician. He had briefly worked as a college professor, and was obviously more interested in big ideas, than in the tedium that constitutes so much of political work. McCarthy was so unable to concentrate on the things that bored him, that his opponent when he ran for reelection in 1964 unsuccessfully attempted to skewer him with the slogan "Minnesota needs a full-time senator!"
After McCarthy lost the Democratic president nomination to Humphrey in August of 1968, he abandoned the fall campaign, to instead briefly become a sports journalist, covering the World Series for Life magazine.
Carr describes some of the more eccentric characters in subsequent Minnesota politics. Although he omits the Republican gubernatorial candidate who had to drop out of the race in October, after he was accused of acting improperly toward underage girls among his daughter's friends.
In light of all that history, it's strange that some people are still surprised by an event such as Franken's election. It's a fun state! Some time when you're flying over, why don't you stop in for a while?
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Tax Cut Quarterback
Jack Kemp, to me one of the most interesting politicians of late-20th-century America, died yesterday at the age of 73.
In some ways Kemp could be seen as an orthodox Republican politician of his period. But perhaps that was because he defined a new Republican orthodoxy by putting tax cuts at the center of our party's platform, even if that meant abandoning the traditional Republican priority of budget balancing.
But Kemp did not blend into the background of Republican politics. The politician to whom he is perhaps most often compared is that arch-Democrat Hubert Humphrey. In this PBS interview regarding his debate with Al Gore when the two were running for vice president in 1996, Kemp said of himself, "it was a very formal setting, and looking back at it, that's not my style. I'm more of a preacher, an evangelist, a - you know, I'm the Hubert Humphrey of the Republican party."
Aside from their shared loquacious speaking style, Kemp, like Humphrey, was fond of offering new policy ideas. It was said of Humphrey that he had more solutions than there were problems. But many of us in the Republican Party thought Kemp had appropriate solutions.
On the policy front, Kemp is best known for the tax-cut plan that bore the names of himself and Senator William Roth, Republican of Delaware. That formed the basis of the tax cut that was signed into law by President Reagan in 1981. But, as HUD Secretary in George H.W. Bush's administration, Kemp was also an evangelist for enterprise zones, a plan to promote urban development by cutting back on taxation and regulation in distressed areas.
Having been a professional athlete, it was said that Kemp had showered with more African Americans than many Republicans have ever met. However, his efforts to increase black support for his party, largely fell flat.
As noted in the New York Times obituary to which I've linked above, Kemp was largely self-taught in politics and economics. Having already compared him to one Minnesotan, Humphrey, I can now compare him to another: Jesse Ventura. Although Ventura was a different type of "athlete" than Kemp, they both did a lot of serious reading on plane flights, and during other down time. That's how they both were able to emulate the Hollywood actor who signed Kemp's tax bill, by belying the low expectations that greeted their entry into the political arena.
In some ways Kemp could be seen as an orthodox Republican politician of his period. But perhaps that was because he defined a new Republican orthodoxy by putting tax cuts at the center of our party's platform, even if that meant abandoning the traditional Republican priority of budget balancing.
But Kemp did not blend into the background of Republican politics. The politician to whom he is perhaps most often compared is that arch-Democrat Hubert Humphrey. In this PBS interview regarding his debate with Al Gore when the two were running for vice president in 1996, Kemp said of himself, "it was a very formal setting, and looking back at it, that's not my style. I'm more of a preacher, an evangelist, a - you know, I'm the Hubert Humphrey of the Republican party."
Aside from their shared loquacious speaking style, Kemp, like Humphrey, was fond of offering new policy ideas. It was said of Humphrey that he had more solutions than there were problems. But many of us in the Republican Party thought Kemp had appropriate solutions.
On the policy front, Kemp is best known for the tax-cut plan that bore the names of himself and Senator William Roth, Republican of Delaware. That formed the basis of the tax cut that was signed into law by President Reagan in 1981. But, as HUD Secretary in George H.W. Bush's administration, Kemp was also an evangelist for enterprise zones, a plan to promote urban development by cutting back on taxation and regulation in distressed areas.
Having been a professional athlete, it was said that Kemp had showered with more African Americans than many Republicans have ever met. However, his efforts to increase black support for his party, largely fell flat.
As noted in the New York Times obituary to which I've linked above, Kemp was largely self-taught in politics and economics. Having already compared him to one Minnesotan, Humphrey, I can now compare him to another: Jesse Ventura. Although Ventura was a different type of "athlete" than Kemp, they both did a lot of serious reading on plane flights, and during other down time. That's how they both were able to emulate the Hollywood actor who signed Kemp's tax bill, by belying the low expectations that greeted their entry into the political arena.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Post-Hillary New York
I've noticed two articles this week on the continuing political implications in New York of Hillary Clinton's move from the Senate to the State Department.
When Governor David Paterson appointed Kirsten Gillibrand to replace Clinton, that necessitated a special election in the congressional district that Gillibrand had represented since 2007. Here is a Washington Post article about that campaign.
The district had been represented by Republicans for many years, before the Democratic landslide of 2006. Therefore, there is a chance for something that has been rare in recent years: a Republican gain. However, the Post report notes that President Obama is still pretty much in his honeymoon stage, and that Obama carried the district last November. Therefore, Democrats are making a push to lock in their gain in that district.
Meanwhile, The New York Times published an article about Gillibrand, as she takes up her Senate duties, and runs for election to a full term. That piece mainly addresses her long-windedness. I agree with Ross Goldberg's conclusion that that does not preclude political success. Most Americans in this day and age will think of the name he mentions in that regard, Bill Clinton. But those of us who are from my native state of Minnesota, and who have long memories, will think instead of Hubert Humphrey.
But what mainly caught my eye in Goldberg's article was his reference to Gillibrand's "newfound zest for gun control and a moratorium on immigration raids". When Paterson appointed her, Gillibrand's relatively conservative record in the House was controversial. Now, she appears to be acting as politicians typically do, and conforming more closely to the majority views of her new, broader, constituency.
Another example of that phenomenon became an issue in the presidential campaign of 2000, when Al Gore was criticized for having moved steadily to the left as he went from representing a conservative Tennessee congressional district, to representing that state as a whole in the Senate, to running for national office.
Barack Obama went in the other direction, when he quickly shifted from representing a left-wing state Senate district in Chicago, to becoming president of the United States.
In my opinion, criticism of politicians for this, shall we say, fluidity, is valid only up to a point. They must strike a delicate balance between, on the one hand, doing what they think is right and, on the other hand, representing the opinions of their constituents. Going too far in the former direction is undemocratic, while too much of the latter constitutes a lack of leadership.
When Governor David Paterson appointed Kirsten Gillibrand to replace Clinton, that necessitated a special election in the congressional district that Gillibrand had represented since 2007. Here is a Washington Post article about that campaign.
The district had been represented by Republicans for many years, before the Democratic landslide of 2006. Therefore, there is a chance for something that has been rare in recent years: a Republican gain. However, the Post report notes that President Obama is still pretty much in his honeymoon stage, and that Obama carried the district last November. Therefore, Democrats are making a push to lock in their gain in that district.
Meanwhile, The New York Times published an article about Gillibrand, as she takes up her Senate duties, and runs for election to a full term. That piece mainly addresses her long-windedness. I agree with Ross Goldberg's conclusion that that does not preclude political success. Most Americans in this day and age will think of the name he mentions in that regard, Bill Clinton. But those of us who are from my native state of Minnesota, and who have long memories, will think instead of Hubert Humphrey.
But what mainly caught my eye in Goldberg's article was his reference to Gillibrand's "newfound zest for gun control and a moratorium on immigration raids". When Paterson appointed her, Gillibrand's relatively conservative record in the House was controversial. Now, she appears to be acting as politicians typically do, and conforming more closely to the majority views of her new, broader, constituency.
Another example of that phenomenon became an issue in the presidential campaign of 2000, when Al Gore was criticized for having moved steadily to the left as he went from representing a conservative Tennessee congressional district, to representing that state as a whole in the Senate, to running for national office.
Barack Obama went in the other direction, when he quickly shifted from representing a left-wing state Senate district in Chicago, to becoming president of the United States.
In my opinion, criticism of politicians for this, shall we say, fluidity, is valid only up to a point. They must strike a delicate balance between, on the one hand, doing what they think is right and, on the other hand, representing the opinions of their constituents. Going too far in the former direction is undemocratic, while too much of the latter constitutes a lack of leadership.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Au Revoir Senate
President-elect Obama is resigning his Senate seat, effective Sunday, November 16. That is 65 days before his scheduled presidential inauguration.
In line with what I wrote here, that is unusually early.
There's not a whole lot of precedent for presidents being elected to the Senate. The two such cases in the 20th century went as follows:
There is more precedent at the vice-presidential level (vice-precedent?). The most recent senator to be elected vice president, Al Gore, remained in the Senate until the new Congress convened on January 3, 1993. The earliest date on which any incoming vice president resigned from the Senate since January 20 became the inauguration date, was December 29, 1964, when Hubert Humphrey resigned early, in order to give his successor, Walter Mondale, a seniority advantage over other new senators.
Obama has apparently made a deliberate decision not to be part of the lame-duck congressional session that gets underway next week. That will both 1) make for more of a fresh start, when he tackles economic issues in January, and 2) free him up to work on assembling his Cabinet, and other transition issues.
There is precedent for a president-elect not involving himself in economic issues prematurely. In the 1932-33 transition, Franklin Roosevelt rebuffed outgoing President Herbert Hoover's invitation for a joint statement on government actions to combat the Great Depression. That contributed to the frosty relationship between the two on Roosevelt's inauguration day, that I referred to here.
In line with what I wrote here, that is unusually early.
There's not a whole lot of precedent for presidents being elected to the Senate. The two such cases in the 20th century went as follows:
- John Kennedy resigned his Senate seat on December 22, 1960, 29 days before his inauguration.
- Warren Harding resigned on January 13, 1921, which, in the era when March 4 was the standard inauguration date, was 40 days before he became president.
There is more precedent at the vice-presidential level (vice-precedent?). The most recent senator to be elected vice president, Al Gore, remained in the Senate until the new Congress convened on January 3, 1993. The earliest date on which any incoming vice president resigned from the Senate since January 20 became the inauguration date, was December 29, 1964, when Hubert Humphrey resigned early, in order to give his successor, Walter Mondale, a seniority advantage over other new senators.
Obama has apparently made a deliberate decision not to be part of the lame-duck congressional session that gets underway next week. That will both 1) make for more of a fresh start, when he tackles economic issues in January, and 2) free him up to work on assembling his Cabinet, and other transition issues.
There is precedent for a president-elect not involving himself in economic issues prematurely. In the 1932-33 transition, Franklin Roosevelt rebuffed outgoing President Herbert Hoover's invitation for a joint statement on government actions to combat the Great Depression. That contributed to the frosty relationship between the two on Roosevelt's inauguration day, that I referred to here.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
So far, Obama has 71% of the popular vote!
It's one of the great traditions of American presidential politics. Every single one of the registered voters in Dixville Notch, New Hampshire, (21 of them, this year) casts a vote shortly after midnight, so they can be tallied and announced to the world.
This year's tally: Obama 15, McCain 6.
But Obama and his supporters can, as they say, curb their enthusiasm, according to Nate Silver at the 538 blog. He presents a graph showing no correlation between Dixville Notch's vote and that of New Hampshire as a whole.
And it will inevitably be disappointing for Obama to watch his percentage of the popular vote decrease as the day and night go on. If the polls are accurate, of course, it's not really bad news, because he can expect to end up over 50% and, more importantly, over 50% in the electoral college.
According to past election results listed in Dixville Notch's Wikipedia entry, it has generally voted Republican during the past half-century. In what seems to me a quirky exception, Hubert Humphrey, in 1968, was the only previous Democratic nominee to win a plurality of the votes. Richard Nixon outpolled Humphrey in the entire state by 52% to 44%.
This year's tally: Obama 15, McCain 6.
But Obama and his supporters can, as they say, curb their enthusiasm, according to Nate Silver at the 538 blog. He presents a graph showing no correlation between Dixville Notch's vote and that of New Hampshire as a whole.
And it will inevitably be disappointing for Obama to watch his percentage of the popular vote decrease as the day and night go on. If the polls are accurate, of course, it's not really bad news, because he can expect to end up over 50% and, more importantly, over 50% in the electoral college.
According to past election results listed in Dixville Notch's Wikipedia entry, it has generally voted Republican during the past half-century. In what seems to me a quirky exception, Hubert Humphrey, in 1968, was the only previous Democratic nominee to win a plurality of the votes. Richard Nixon outpolled Humphrey in the entire state by 52% to 44%.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Falling Into The Grand Canyon?
One strange phenomenon in this year's presidential election is the relatively slim margin by which John McCain leads in the polls in his home state of Arizona. Real Clear Politics lists polls showing McCain ahead by a bit more than the margin of error, but still only in single digits. And this report in Politico mentions a poll with only a four-point McCain lead.
Not that it would be unprecedented for a presidential candidate to fail to carry his home state.
The last such case was in 2000, when George W. Bush beat Al Gore in Tennessee.
In 1972, South Dakota Sen. George McGovern, the Democratic presidential nominee, lost his home state (as well as 48 others) to President Richard Nixon. But McGovern, who lost in a crushing landslide, had a higher percentage of the vote in South Dakota (45.5%), which has generally voted Republican in presidential elections, than his dismal 37.5% of the nationwide popular vote.
In 1968, Nixon was, I believe, the only winning candidate ever to fail to carry his home state. But, in that decade in which the asterisk was so controversial in baseball, an asterisk needs to be added to that observation about Nixon. Although he was a New York resident in 1968, and he lost that state to Hubert Humphrey, he was really more a Californian than a New Yorker. Nixon moved to New York after his 1962 defeat for governor of California, and was a partner in a law firm there, until he became president in 1969. But all of his congressional and gubernatorial campaigns were in California, and he re-established his official residence in California shortly after the 1968 election. He did, however, subsequently return to the New York area, spending his last years in North Jersey.
The only previous major-party presidential nominee from Arizona, Barry Goldwater, carried very few states in his campaign against Lyndon Johnson, in 1964. However, he did win the electoral votes of Arizona, but just barely. But that was only worth five electoral votes to Goldwater. Due to subsequent growth, Arizona now has 10 electoral votes.
Adlai Stevenson, who was badly beaten by Dwight Eisenhower in 1952, did not let that discourage him. He came back for more in 1956. He lost Illinois, the state of which he had been governor, to Eisenhower, by large margins in both 1952 and 1956. It appears that that will not happen to another Illinoisan, the current Democratic nominee.
One last trip down memory lane (no, I'm not actually old enough to remember this): in 1944, one of the candidates had to lose his home state, because they were both New Yorkers, a former governor, President Franklin Roosevelt, and the incumbent Governor Thomas Dewey. Roosevelt defeated Dewey, both in New York, and nationwide.
Not that it would be unprecedented for a presidential candidate to fail to carry his home state.
The last such case was in 2000, when George W. Bush beat Al Gore in Tennessee.
In 1972, South Dakota Sen. George McGovern, the Democratic presidential nominee, lost his home state (as well as 48 others) to President Richard Nixon. But McGovern, who lost in a crushing landslide, had a higher percentage of the vote in South Dakota (45.5%), which has generally voted Republican in presidential elections, than his dismal 37.5% of the nationwide popular vote.
In 1968, Nixon was, I believe, the only winning candidate ever to fail to carry his home state. But, in that decade in which the asterisk was so controversial in baseball, an asterisk needs to be added to that observation about Nixon. Although he was a New York resident in 1968, and he lost that state to Hubert Humphrey, he was really more a Californian than a New Yorker. Nixon moved to New York after his 1962 defeat for governor of California, and was a partner in a law firm there, until he became president in 1969. But all of his congressional and gubernatorial campaigns were in California, and he re-established his official residence in California shortly after the 1968 election. He did, however, subsequently return to the New York area, spending his last years in North Jersey.
The only previous major-party presidential nominee from Arizona, Barry Goldwater, carried very few states in his campaign against Lyndon Johnson, in 1964. However, he did win the electoral votes of Arizona, but just barely. But that was only worth five electoral votes to Goldwater. Due to subsequent growth, Arizona now has 10 electoral votes.
Adlai Stevenson, who was badly beaten by Dwight Eisenhower in 1952, did not let that discourage him. He came back for more in 1956. He lost Illinois, the state of which he had been governor, to Eisenhower, by large margins in both 1952 and 1956. It appears that that will not happen to another Illinoisan, the current Democratic nominee.
One last trip down memory lane (no, I'm not actually old enough to remember this): in 1944, one of the candidates had to lose his home state, because they were both New Yorkers, a former governor, President Franklin Roosevelt, and the incumbent Governor Thomas Dewey. Roosevelt defeated Dewey, both in New York, and nationwide.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Change. Now, where was it that I heard that?
In discussing presidential transitions, I noted how rarely one president is elected to succeed a president of the same party. It happened only three times during the 20th century: 1908, when William H. Taft succeeded Theodore Roosevelt; 1928, when Herbert Hoover succeeded Calvin Coolidge; and 1988, when George H.W. Bush succeeded Ronald Reagan.
In each of those cases, a popular president did not seek reelection, and was succeeded by someone who had served in his administration as either vice president or secretary of a department.
It's also true of each of those instances that, four years hence, the successor failed to win a second full term. I think we can chalk that up to coincidence. If anyone thinks they see cause-and-effect there, please comment to that effect.
The obvious current question is: what does all this mean for John McCain? As I noted earlier, the retiring president is nowhere near as popular as the three named above. And McCain has not been part of George W. Bush's administration.
The main element that makes it difficult to do what McCain wants to do, is that a candidate in his position can be tarred by all of the negatives of the outgoing administration, without enjoying the advantages of incumbency. Swooping into town on Air Force One, and perhaps sprinkling a little federal grant money around, livens up a campaign trip of an incumbent president. By contrast, a senator on a leased campaign plane will probably be asked to justify the Iraq war, and might not look quite as presidential as he wants to look, in the process.
Perhaps the most heartening thought for McCain might be to consider three presidential candidates who came up just short, in their attempts to succeed a president of their party: Richard Nixon in 1960, Hubert Humphrey in 1968, and Al Gore in 2000. In the first two cases, the popular vote was very close and, of course, in the third Gore actually won a plurality of the popular vote. But in each of those cases, the opposition-party challenger put together a sufficient electoral college majority.
In each of those years, the incumbent president had issues. Dwight Eisenhower was personally popular, but the country was in recession in 1960. In 1968, Lyndon Johnson's policies were under attack from both left and right. In 2000, Bill Clinton remained popular, but Gore distanced himself from Clinton in order to avoid association with the scandal that had brought impeachment in 1998.
Still, with a few more votes in Florida, Illinois, and maybe a couple of other states ...
But, whether an incumbent is on the ballot or not, the electorate has often wanted -- guess what? Change! We will soon find out whether Barack Obama's emphasis of that theme gets him the result he wants.
In each of those cases, a popular president did not seek reelection, and was succeeded by someone who had served in his administration as either vice president or secretary of a department.
It's also true of each of those instances that, four years hence, the successor failed to win a second full term. I think we can chalk that up to coincidence. If anyone thinks they see cause-and-effect there, please comment to that effect.
The obvious current question is: what does all this mean for John McCain? As I noted earlier, the retiring president is nowhere near as popular as the three named above. And McCain has not been part of George W. Bush's administration.
The main element that makes it difficult to do what McCain wants to do, is that a candidate in his position can be tarred by all of the negatives of the outgoing administration, without enjoying the advantages of incumbency. Swooping into town on Air Force One, and perhaps sprinkling a little federal grant money around, livens up a campaign trip of an incumbent president. By contrast, a senator on a leased campaign plane will probably be asked to justify the Iraq war, and might not look quite as presidential as he wants to look, in the process.
Perhaps the most heartening thought for McCain might be to consider three presidential candidates who came up just short, in their attempts to succeed a president of their party: Richard Nixon in 1960, Hubert Humphrey in 1968, and Al Gore in 2000. In the first two cases, the popular vote was very close and, of course, in the third Gore actually won a plurality of the popular vote. But in each of those cases, the opposition-party challenger put together a sufficient electoral college majority.
In each of those years, the incumbent president had issues. Dwight Eisenhower was personally popular, but the country was in recession in 1960. In 1968, Lyndon Johnson's policies were under attack from both left and right. In 2000, Bill Clinton remained popular, but Gore distanced himself from Clinton in order to avoid association with the scandal that had brought impeachment in 1998.
Still, with a few more votes in Florida, Illinois, and maybe a couple of other states ...
But, whether an incumbent is on the ballot or not, the electorate has often wanted -- guess what? Change! We will soon find out whether Barack Obama's emphasis of that theme gets him the result he wants.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Come Home, America
The title of this post is the catchphrase around which Senator George McGovern's acceptance speech was crafted, at the 1972 Democratic National Convention that nominated him for president. Whether one agreed with the substance, or thought the oratory stirring, is largely irrelevant because, at 2:45 a.m., Eastern Daylight Time, the audience was rather small.
The previous Democratic National Convention, in 1968, had been marred by street protests, which were met with what one Democratic senator called "Gestapo tactics" by the police of the host city, Chicago, much to the consternation of his fellow Democrat, the mayor of that city. On the night of the acceptance speech by that year's Democratic presidential nominee, Hubert Humphrey, the television cameras were focused as much on the violence on Chicago's streets, as on Humphrey's speech in front of those in the convention hall, who could be called, in the parlance of the day, "The Establishment".
Roles were somewhat reversed four years later. In 1972, much of The Establishment was shut out of the convention. And many of the delegates were of the faction that had been outside protesting in 1968. This reversal was brought about by: 1) significant changes in delegate-selection rules; and 2) a successful insurgent anti-war candidacy for the presidential nomination. And the name at the center of both of those phenomena was George McGovern.
The 1968 convention had created something called the Commission on Party Structure and Delegate Selection, which was chaired by McGovern. The commission was charged with recommending new rules for the delegate selection process, to be implemented for the 1972 nomination process. Later, when McGovern became a candidate, the chairmanship was turned over to Congressman Donald M. Fraser of Minnesota.
The major changes that the McGovern-Fraser commission brought about include:
And although the commission had been purely a Democratic Party activity, the changes to a great degree affected the Republican Party, as well. I see at least two reasons for that:
One result of all that was that the convention did not run very smoothly. It was certainly not run with the military precision that the Republicans had achieved at their convention that year.
On the final day of the convention, McGovern announced his choice for his vice-presidential running mate: Senator Thomas F. Eagleton of Missouri. (More later on post-convention problems for Eagleton.) The agenda of the convention that evening was to ratify the choice of Eagleton, and hear acceptance speeches from both nominees.
If I recall correctly, that Thursday night session started late, in the first place. I don't remember why. Then, the ballot for the vice-presidential nominee turned into a three-ring circus. Eagleton won the nomination in one ballot, but over 70 candidates received votes. They included just about every half-way prominent Democratic politician in the country. The list also included some who did not meet the constitutional qualifications for the office, such as Mao Zedong. The time it took to read out all of those votes put the session further and further off schedule.
I remember commentators saying at the time that that was the young delegates' way of letting off steam after sitting through a week of convention proceedings. They made them sound like schoolchildren who had behaved reasonably well throughout the school year, but started cutting up on the last day before summer vacation.
Getting back to my original point, that is why McGovern made his acceptance speech in the middle of the night. The candidate who could seemingly do no wrong in the lead-up to the convention saw, on the last night of the convention, the beginnings of his campaign turning into a comedy of errors.
Republican President Richard Nixon won reelection over McGovern in one of the largest landslides in American history.
I plan to write more, later, on how this episode contributed to the Democratic Party's creation of superdelegates.
Despite Nixon's landslide victory, he served less than half of his second term. He resigned on August 9, 1974, after he could no longer defend himself in the series of scandals known as Watergate.
The previous Democratic National Convention, in 1968, had been marred by street protests, which were met with what one Democratic senator called "Gestapo tactics" by the police of the host city, Chicago, much to the consternation of his fellow Democrat, the mayor of that city. On the night of the acceptance speech by that year's Democratic presidential nominee, Hubert Humphrey, the television cameras were focused as much on the violence on Chicago's streets, as on Humphrey's speech in front of those in the convention hall, who could be called, in the parlance of the day, "The Establishment".
Roles were somewhat reversed four years later. In 1972, much of The Establishment was shut out of the convention. And many of the delegates were of the faction that had been outside protesting in 1968. This reversal was brought about by: 1) significant changes in delegate-selection rules; and 2) a successful insurgent anti-war candidacy for the presidential nomination. And the name at the center of both of those phenomena was George McGovern.
The 1968 convention had created something called the Commission on Party Structure and Delegate Selection, which was chaired by McGovern. The commission was charged with recommending new rules for the delegate selection process, to be implemented for the 1972 nomination process. Later, when McGovern became a candidate, the chairmanship was turned over to Congressman Donald M. Fraser of Minnesota.
The major changes that the McGovern-Fraser commission brought about include:
- Delegates allocated proportionately according to each candidate's share of the votes in a primary (i.e., no more "winner-take-all" primaries).
- Affirmative action goals for underrepresented groups.
- Open delegate-selection processes (i.e., no more "smoke-filled rooms").
And although the commission had been purely a Democratic Party activity, the changes to a great degree affected the Republican Party, as well. I see at least two reasons for that:
- Those changes, such as the introduction of presidential primaries into more states, that involve state election laws, apply to both parties equally.
- The Republicans would not have wanted to be seen as the party of old-fashioned machine politics, once the Democrats had adopted their modernized rules. In other words, for competitive reasons, the Republicans needed to make similar changes. That's not to say that the Republicans matched all of the Democrats' changes, however.
One result of all that was that the convention did not run very smoothly. It was certainly not run with the military precision that the Republicans had achieved at their convention that year.
On the final day of the convention, McGovern announced his choice for his vice-presidential running mate: Senator Thomas F. Eagleton of Missouri. (More later on post-convention problems for Eagleton.) The agenda of the convention that evening was to ratify the choice of Eagleton, and hear acceptance speeches from both nominees.
If I recall correctly, that Thursday night session started late, in the first place. I don't remember why. Then, the ballot for the vice-presidential nominee turned into a three-ring circus. Eagleton won the nomination in one ballot, but over 70 candidates received votes. They included just about every half-way prominent Democratic politician in the country. The list also included some who did not meet the constitutional qualifications for the office, such as Mao Zedong. The time it took to read out all of those votes put the session further and further off schedule.
I remember commentators saying at the time that that was the young delegates' way of letting off steam after sitting through a week of convention proceedings. They made them sound like schoolchildren who had behaved reasonably well throughout the school year, but started cutting up on the last day before summer vacation.
Getting back to my original point, that is why McGovern made his acceptance speech in the middle of the night. The candidate who could seemingly do no wrong in the lead-up to the convention saw, on the last night of the convention, the beginnings of his campaign turning into a comedy of errors.
Republican President Richard Nixon won reelection over McGovern in one of the largest landslides in American history.
I plan to write more, later, on how this episode contributed to the Democratic Party's creation of superdelegates.
Despite Nixon's landslide victory, he served less than half of his second term. He resigned on August 9, 1974, after he could no longer defend himself in the series of scandals known as Watergate.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Building a Platform
Here's a story about impending platform debates leading up to the Republican National Convention in September.
Party platforms are curious things. They are often dismissed as meaningless pieces of writing, that give very little guidance as to the actions that a new or re-elected president will take upon winning the election. But a lot of people seem to take them seriously, while they're being written.
Each party appoints a platform committee to meet shortly before their national convention, and draw up a document listing their party's positions on the issues of the day. The convention then approves the platform, perhaps after amending it.
Convention debate on amendments to the platform can be troublesome. One of the most (in)famous was at the Democratic convention in 1968. The candidate who went into the convention with the nomination locked up was Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He had staked out a moderate position on the Vietnam War. The party's antiwar faction proposed a strong antiwar amendment to the platform. The amendment was defeated, but the extended debate over it, on national TV, contributed to the general impression of chaos at that convention, and to Humphrey's defeat in the general election.
I see a parallel of sorts between that 1968 experience and what McCain is facing this year. In each case, a candidate whose background largely aligned him with his party's dominant ideological faction, came into the election year needing to prove himself to ideologues in his party.
Humphrey was considered the liberal's liberal during his first tour of duty in the Senate, from 1949 to 1964. However, after a term as Lyndon Johnson's VP, he was identified with the pro-war position on Vietnam, which by that time was anathema to many liberals.
McCain has built a Senate record that is considered to be conservative on many issues. However, he clashes with many conservatives on the issues mentioned in the MSNBC piece to which I've linked, above.
As I'll write more about later, the parties don't like to have their convention TV shows marred by intra-party clashes anymore. So it will be interesting to see whether any disagreements hit the floor at the Republican convention this year.
Party platforms are curious things. They are often dismissed as meaningless pieces of writing, that give very little guidance as to the actions that a new or re-elected president will take upon winning the election. But a lot of people seem to take them seriously, while they're being written.
Each party appoints a platform committee to meet shortly before their national convention, and draw up a document listing their party's positions on the issues of the day. The convention then approves the platform, perhaps after amending it.
Convention debate on amendments to the platform can be troublesome. One of the most (in)famous was at the Democratic convention in 1968. The candidate who went into the convention with the nomination locked up was Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He had staked out a moderate position on the Vietnam War. The party's antiwar faction proposed a strong antiwar amendment to the platform. The amendment was defeated, but the extended debate over it, on national TV, contributed to the general impression of chaos at that convention, and to Humphrey's defeat in the general election.
I see a parallel of sorts between that 1968 experience and what McCain is facing this year. In each case, a candidate whose background largely aligned him with his party's dominant ideological faction, came into the election year needing to prove himself to ideologues in his party.
Humphrey was considered the liberal's liberal during his first tour of duty in the Senate, from 1949 to 1964. However, after a term as Lyndon Johnson's VP, he was identified with the pro-war position on Vietnam, which by that time was anathema to many liberals.
McCain has built a Senate record that is considered to be conservative on many issues. However, he clashes with many conservatives on the issues mentioned in the MSNBC piece to which I've linked, above.
As I'll write more about later, the parties don't like to have their convention TV shows marred by intra-party clashes anymore. So it will be interesting to see whether any disagreements hit the floor at the Republican convention this year.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A Turbulent Year
There will forever be disagreements about the meaning of various events in 1968. But I think all will agree on one thing: it was a turbulent political year such as has seldom been seen in America (not that the turbulence was limited to America).
Four years earlier, Lyndon Johnson had won a full term as president in a huge landslide, almost a year after he had become president when John Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963. After the 1964 election, the widespread expectation was that Johnson would run for a second full term in 1968, and at that time he seemed invincible. Johnson would have been constitutionally eligible to run for two full terms, because he had served less than half of the term to which Kennedy had been elected in 1960. However, no president who had succeeded to the presidency upon the death or resignation of a president has won a second full term.
What ensued? To quote Harold Macmillan, who was British prime minster from 1957 to 1963, "events, dear boy, events". The 1965-1969 presidential term was certainly eventful. Johnson's domestic policies, including federal funding of elementary and secondary education, federal health insurance for senior citizens, and other expansions of the federal reach, disillusioned some voters. But the biggest "event" was the escalation of American military involvement in Vietnam, which began in earnest in 1965.
By 1968, Johnson had lost much of his support. On March 31 of that year, he announced he would not run for president in 1968. In that same speech, he announced the beginnings of the U.S.'s standing down from its military commitment to South Vietnam.
Johnson's vice president, Hubert Humphrey, won the Democratic nomination, after a contentious campaign that saw, among other things, the assassination of one of Humphrey's rivals, Sen. Robert Kennedy of New York.
The Republican nominee was Richard Nixon. After losing the 1960 presidential election to John Kennedy, and the 1962 California gubernatorial election to Pat Brown, Nixon moved to New York, joined a law firm there, and patiently planned his comeback. He was talked about as a contender for the 1964 Republican nomination but, in what certainly seems in retrospect a wise move, he bided his time. He rather easily won the 1968 Republican nomination; his main opponent was Governor Nelson Rockefeller of New York.
The third-party candidate was George Wallace, then the former and future governor of Alabama. At his first gubernatorial inauguration in 1963, he said: "I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever." Between that inauguration and his 1968 presidential candidacy, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had been enacted. For the first time, the federal government possessed the tools to enforce the 14th and 15th Amendments, which were ratified in the wake of the Civil War, and were intended, respectively, to give freed African American slaves equal protection of the laws, and voting rights.
I did not find in Wallace's 1968 platform an explicit pledge to repeal those acts, but that is at least strongly implied by such planks as:
One can speculate about what combination of ambition and conviction brought Wallace to his decision to launch a third-party candidacy. But it is clear that he was setting out a policy position separate from those of the major-party candidates.
Humphrey was a consistent supporter of the type of federal actions that Wallace condemned. I wrote about Humphrey's 1948 convention speech here. In 1964, Humphrey was Senate floor manager for proponents of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Nixon had been seen as a moderate on racial issues. During his presidency, when the issues shifted from elimination of Jim Crow laws, and impediments to African American voting, to such issues as affirmative action, and the so-called "busing" issue (sending children to public schools outside their neighborhood, in order to achieve racial balance), Nixon to a large degree sided with southern conservatives. But that's different from advocating rollback of the 1964-5 civil rights legislation.
Nixon won the general election with 301 electoral votes, to 191 for Humphrey and 46 for Wallace. The popular vote was very close, with 43.42% for Nixon to 42.72% for Humphrey. Wallace received 13.53% of the vote, a much higher proportion than Strom Thurmond had garnered in his similar third-party run in 1948. Wallace won a fair number of votes outside the south, although all of his electoral votes were southern.
Never again was there to be a major segregationist third-party run. Wallace ran for president as a Democrat in 1972 and 1976, failing to win his party's nomination in both of those years. Wallace, as was generally the case with major white southern politicians who retained significant support in the 1970s and onward, moderated his position on racial issues. He won further gubernatorial elections in Alabama in 1970, 1974 and 1982, despite being paralyzed after an assassination attempt in 1972.
Nixon won the electoral votes of Florida, Virginia, both Carolinas, and Tennessee in 1968. He then swept every southern state in his 1972 landslide victory over George McGovern. With the exception of 1976, when Georgian Jimmy Carter won a huge majority of southern electoral votes, Republicans have dominated the south ever since. Even in 2000, when Al Gore of Tennessee was the Democratic presidential nominee, his Republican opponent George W. Bush made a sweep of the south, including Gore's home state. Gore won a plurality of the popular vote, but the bulk of his support was outside his home region.
Four years earlier, Lyndon Johnson had won a full term as president in a huge landslide, almost a year after he had become president when John Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963. After the 1964 election, the widespread expectation was that Johnson would run for a second full term in 1968, and at that time he seemed invincible. Johnson would have been constitutionally eligible to run for two full terms, because he had served less than half of the term to which Kennedy had been elected in 1960. However, no president who had succeeded to the presidency upon the death or resignation of a president has won a second full term.
What ensued? To quote Harold Macmillan, who was British prime minster from 1957 to 1963, "events, dear boy, events". The 1965-1969 presidential term was certainly eventful. Johnson's domestic policies, including federal funding of elementary and secondary education, federal health insurance for senior citizens, and other expansions of the federal reach, disillusioned some voters. But the biggest "event" was the escalation of American military involvement in Vietnam, which began in earnest in 1965.
By 1968, Johnson had lost much of his support. On March 31 of that year, he announced he would not run for president in 1968. In that same speech, he announced the beginnings of the U.S.'s standing down from its military commitment to South Vietnam.
Johnson's vice president, Hubert Humphrey, won the Democratic nomination, after a contentious campaign that saw, among other things, the assassination of one of Humphrey's rivals, Sen. Robert Kennedy of New York.
The Republican nominee was Richard Nixon. After losing the 1960 presidential election to John Kennedy, and the 1962 California gubernatorial election to Pat Brown, Nixon moved to New York, joined a law firm there, and patiently planned his comeback. He was talked about as a contender for the 1964 Republican nomination but, in what certainly seems in retrospect a wise move, he bided his time. He rather easily won the 1968 Republican nomination; his main opponent was Governor Nelson Rockefeller of New York.
The third-party candidate was George Wallace, then the former and future governor of Alabama. At his first gubernatorial inauguration in 1963, he said: "I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever." Between that inauguration and his 1968 presidential candidacy, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had been enacted. For the first time, the federal government possessed the tools to enforce the 14th and 15th Amendments, which were ratified in the wake of the Civil War, and were intended, respectively, to give freed African American slaves equal protection of the laws, and voting rights.
I did not find in Wallace's 1968 platform an explicit pledge to repeal those acts, but that is at least strongly implied by such planks as:
Reestablishment of the authority and responsibility of local government by
returning to the states, counties and cities those matters properly falling
within their jurisdiction and responsibility.
the Federal Government has adopted so-called "Civil Rights Acts,"
particularly the one adopted in 1964, which have set race against race and class
against class, all of which we condemn.
One can speculate about what combination of ambition and conviction brought Wallace to his decision to launch a third-party candidacy. But it is clear that he was setting out a policy position separate from those of the major-party candidates.
Humphrey was a consistent supporter of the type of federal actions that Wallace condemned. I wrote about Humphrey's 1948 convention speech here. In 1964, Humphrey was Senate floor manager for proponents of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Nixon had been seen as a moderate on racial issues. During his presidency, when the issues shifted from elimination of Jim Crow laws, and impediments to African American voting, to such issues as affirmative action, and the so-called "busing" issue (sending children to public schools outside their neighborhood, in order to achieve racial balance), Nixon to a large degree sided with southern conservatives. But that's different from advocating rollback of the 1964-5 civil rights legislation.
Nixon won the general election with 301 electoral votes, to 191 for Humphrey and 46 for Wallace. The popular vote was very close, with 43.42% for Nixon to 42.72% for Humphrey. Wallace received 13.53% of the vote, a much higher proportion than Strom Thurmond had garnered in his similar third-party run in 1948. Wallace won a fair number of votes outside the south, although all of his electoral votes were southern.
Never again was there to be a major segregationist third-party run. Wallace ran for president as a Democrat in 1972 and 1976, failing to win his party's nomination in both of those years. Wallace, as was generally the case with major white southern politicians who retained significant support in the 1970s and onward, moderated his position on racial issues. He won further gubernatorial elections in Alabama in 1970, 1974 and 1982, despite being paralyzed after an assassination attempt in 1972.
Nixon won the electoral votes of Florida, Virginia, both Carolinas, and Tennessee in 1968. He then swept every southern state in his 1972 landslide victory over George McGovern. With the exception of 1976, when Georgian Jimmy Carter won a huge majority of southern electoral votes, Republicans have dominated the south ever since. Even in 2000, when Al Gore of Tennessee was the Democratic presidential nominee, his Republican opponent George W. Bush made a sweep of the south, including Gore's home state. Gore won a plurality of the popular vote, but the bulk of his support was outside his home region.
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